Reverie
by MyPostBlu
Summary: Gale Hawthorne is a doper P.I. with the strangest case he's ever come across. Finding his missing ex-class mate proves to be difficult as he's sucked into a turbulent world of drugs, sex, and mysterious gangs in what may be a ridiculous goose chase. He will be made to confront his past discrepancies and bring him new hope in a shit storm that's been brewing for the past 11 years.
1. Chapter 1

Inspired by the novel Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon. I would recommend you watch the trailer of the film adaptation of the same name (if you don't know what I'm talking about), just to get a feel for what I'm going for.

**Disclaimer**: The characters, places and (some of the) ideas are not mine. Most belong to Suzanne Collins, and the idea comes from Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon (and director, Paul Thomas Anderson).

* * *

Chapter 1 – Old Friends &amp; Older Ties

**The sun was setting** over the bay and the pink and orange hews cast majestic light over the contours of Glimmer's face. If it weren't for the free beer and the live music in Abernathy's bar tonight, Gale sure as hell wouldn't be meeting her. He would most likely be at home, lying on his couch, a joint between his lips listening to re-runs of the Caesar Flickerman show as he stared up at the rotting ceiling of his house.

Glimmer had asked him to come out for a drink claiming she had work for him. Work being work, and Gale, being in need of work, had agreed to meet her with the condition that she buy him a beer. Fuck, he might even get her in bed tonight if he played his cards right.

She sat across from him, her finger circling the top of her beer bottle. Her beaded necklace rested between her breasts, with her loose white vest making it evident that she wore no bra. Her long blonde hair reached her waist and her sun kissed skin looked edible.

"Have you heard of Coriolanus Snow?" She began.

Gale took a sip of his beer and rubbed the beard on his chin.

"The oil tycoon?" he asked.

She nodded her head, "I know a secret about him."

He watched her nibble on her lip, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Word on the street is he's selling out by the Old Arena. Got this gang called the Peacekeeper Brotherhood – some Capitol supremacist dudes - playing bodyguards. Feds can't get near him."

Gale watched as the light in Glimmer's eyes started to fade, her mind obviously going to a darker place. "You remember Cato Sullivan, right? From District 2?" She asked, her voice going quiet.

Cato had been in Gale's class when they went to school out in District 3. They had run track together. That is until Cato turned into an asshole and Gale's life had turned upside down. Last Gale had heard of him, Cato had been off to work at some high paying accounting firm. How he had anything to do with Coriolanus Snow stumped him.

"Yeah, I remember him." Gale shrugged, "What about it?"

"I was dating him a year back, then we broke it off. He was always working. Work, work, work. I told him his job was too demanding, he said I was too demanding. Anyway," Glimmer sighed. "He's missing."

"You think he's working for Snow?"

Glimmer looked shocked, and shook her head. "No, I think he's been kidnapped. Can you find him?"

Confused, Gale motioned for her to explain, "You've got to give me more than that. And what's this secret that you know?"

"He was contacted by one of Snow's guys to do his accounts. Probably got sucked up into it. Anyway, I stopped by his office during the week – I had been contemplating meeting up with him again," she blushed then, "walked into his office and found one of his old work mate's getting sucked off. After Marvel cleaned himself up, he told me that Cato had left the firm; that he'd been gone a month and no one had heard from him."

"Did they contact the police?"

"Well that's what I said!" she continued, "He said that Cato had sent a letter in a month ago saying he quit, and that was the last they heard of him."

"Do you have the letter?"

"No."

Gale rubbed his beard again, thinking the whole situation over. It made no goddamn sense. "I don't get how you think he's been kidnapped. Sounds like he's run off to the fuckin' Capitol with someone's cash"

"I know it doesn't add up, but I have this feeling." She clutched at her chest, drawing Gale's attention to her breasts.

"Will you at least give it a shot?" she asked, "If it leads no where, I'll still pay you."

Glimmer sighed, and for the first time Gale saw her as a truly desperate woman. She must be really hung up on Cato.

So he pursed his lips and shrugged. "Sure," he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his notepad. "Give me some names."

"Start with Marvel James, that's the guy I spoke to. Cato was always running around with him."

Gale scribbled the names down. "And the secret?"

Glimmer leaned in close: her hand now resting on top of Gale's, and her breast almost grazed his forearm. She whispered in his ear.

"Beware of the cornucopia. "

* * *

**"****What the fuck is a cornucopia?"** Gale muttered, dragging on his joint. What a shit secret that was.

He let the dope take over and lay back on his beat up couch. Time passed by and he stared at the painting his sister had sent him three months ago for his thirty-second birthday. Gale didn't speak to his family, or more accurately, they didn't speak to him. But every year on his birthday, his younger sister, Posy, sent him a painting. This year it was a landscape of the view from the hill next to his old family home out in District 12. They were usually landscapes, mainly watercolours, with the occasional oil on canvas of their neighbours' cat – man, that was a ugly fucking cat, but Posy always painted it real good.

The dope wore off and rather than getting depressed by missing his family, Gale got up off his ass and dressed for the day. Throwing on his ratty old denim shirt and denim cut-off shorts, he strode out his house and jumped in his car.

Last night Glimmer had told him about the disappearance of Cato, and today he was going to go talk to this Marvel. He had thought about it all night, and when he woke up this morning he had decided to at least check out what this guy had to say.

After a short drive downtown, Gale pulled up outside Panem Financials LLP and put his ride in park. He attempted to flatten the hair at the back of his head that always stuck up and combed his fingers through his beard.

The sun was high in the early afternoon sky and the heat of District 4 left perspiration on Gale's face. As he stepped inside the foyer of Panem Financials, the cool air hit him like a satisfying lick of coke, and he walked up to the front desk playing up the sexy walk he knew he did well.

Sure enough, he caught the attention of the receptionist. She was a thin woman, with a fox-like face, her hair tied back and a grey suit covering her flat chest.

"Hey, darlin'," Gale said to her. The woman looked up and blushed, either at the charm he was trying to display or the smell of too much aftershave.

"I've got a meeting with Marvel James, mind pointing me in the right direction."

The girl nodded, and fumbled as she searched a directory for the workers in the building.

"He's on floor three, room 3.14." she batted her eyelashes.

"Groovy," he read her badge and said her name with equal amounts flirtation and sexiness, "See ya later, Jade."

Leaving the poor girl quite frazzled, he made his way to the elevator and pressed the button to go up.

"Well, look who it is," a feminine voice from behind him said, "Gale Hawthorne. Looking as fucked up as ever."

Gale turned to find Bristel Fletcher standing with a smirk on her face.

"And look at you," Gale muttered, "As clean and proper as ever. Still letting guys motorboat you by the Slag Heap?"

Bristel laughed, throwing her head back. "Some people just don't change. Especially you, Gale Hawthorne."

Bristel Fletcher was a girl he went to high school with back in District 12. She was the same age as him, and had been good friends with him and his then best friend, Thom. Bristel, like Gale and Thom, had come from the poor part of town, the Seam. They're parents all worked together in the mines, and the three of them had made a pact to get out of the district and make a good living for themselves. By the looks of it, Bristel had done what they had all set out to achieve. Gale had heard that she had moved out west a few years back, but knew little of what kind of work she was doing. In fact, this was the last place he thought he'd find her, and he was a little disappointed to find her Panem pin placed proudly on her blue blazer.

They exchanged stern looks until Gale's scowl cracked and he rumbled with laughter. "How you doing?"

"Good," Bristel smiled, and held up her left hand, displaying a large diamond ring on her wedding finger.

If he had to be honest, Gale was a little jealous. Here was Bristel, came from nothing, like him, and now had a fat diamond ring and was making some serious cash, and here he was – a doper P.I. with a bad reputation.

"A guy I met in college. His name is Jim. We just got engaged a few months ago." Her smile was bright with elation, and Gale could only return it.

"So, what brings you here?" She asked, finally, giving him a once over and raising her eyebrows at his threadbare shorts.

Gale shrugged, "Meeting with someone."

"You're doing P.I. shit now, right?" She asked, "Think I heard it around town."

Gale nodded. He didn't like when people knew things about him. Especially things that proved he had fallen from grace hard and fast. But he liked to look on the bright side. He got up late, went to bed late, worked for himself. It was a pretty fair deal, he reminded himself.

"Who you talking to?" she asked, a defensive edge now creeping in on her voice.

Defensive to him? Gale thought. What did she know?

"Some guy called Marvel."

Bristel pursed her lips, and nodded. "Well, I've got someplace to be." She seemed to contemplate leaving for a minute as Gale still waited on the elevator.

It seemed like she took a while to decide something, but then she pulled out a small white card from her blazer pocket. Her business card.

"If you want to catch up, reach me on this number." She said, then paused, as if contemplating again… "In fact, if you need anything," emphasis on the anything, "Don't hesitate to call." She smiled as if pulled out of her thoughts, and wished him well.

Gale frowned, watching her as she walked away, mystified and intrigued. What did she know? What was she hiding?

* * *

**He found room 3.14 **with no problems. It was down the back of a busy office. The sound of people punching numbers died down when the elevator doors opened and out walked Gale, a hippy in the office of hotshot finance grads and middle-aged fat bellied men. He got a few nasty looks and shrugged them off, ignoring their stares and went in search of Marvel James.

He knocked on the door to Marvel's office.

The blonde haired man sniffed and looked up. "What the fuck do you want?" he asked; giving Gale the once over he had just been through out in the main office.

Gale walked in to the room, shutting the door behind him.

"What do you think…"

"I'm looking for Cato Sullivan, and I think you can help me." Gale interrupted.

"Cato quite a month ago." Marvel sneered.

"Why?"

"Why?" Marvel repeated, "He probably ran off with some guy's cash."

Gale rubbed his beard.

"Wait," Marvel stood up from his chair, "Have you spoke to that Glimmer chick?"

Gale nodded, "She may have asked me to look into his disappearance."

Marvel looked Gale up and down again, lingering on his shorts, "You're not a cop," he said, "You a P.I.?"

Gale nodded again.

"Okay," Marvel moved towards him, "Marvel James," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Gale Hawthorne," he shook Marvel's hand.

Marvel looked towards the door, "You got any blow?" he sniffed.

Gale shook his head, "Nah," he said, "Just some dope,"

Marvel fidgeted, "Listen, I didn't say this to the girl. She looked upset, seemed to think something bad happened to Cato." He moved to the window and looked out towards the sea, "I didn't want to make her more upset, so I told her what she wanted to know. That he sent in a letter of resignation and that was the last I'd seen of him."

"So you're covering for him?"

Marvel laughed, "No, I haven't seen him since before. On the Friday he was fine, then never showed up to work on the Monday. Day later and we get this letter." He moved back to his desk, reached into the top drawer and withdrew an envelope. "Here, I made a copy."

Gale took the letter. The address of the firm had been typed. He opened it up, the inside letter was typed as well.

"I never told her this, but Cato had been hanging around with this crew called the Peacekeepers. He figured they could get him into the good life in the Capitol, had ties to him through Snow. I think he took off to join them."

"Do you think he was forced?"

The blonde haired man laughed, "Cato, no way. Have you seen that guy? Works out four times a week."

Gale took out his notebook, _Lifts_, he wrote.

"Did Cato have a typewriter?"

Marvel shrugged, "In his office,"

So he either typed the letter on Friday or someone else sent it.

"He was seeing someone." Marvel said, "I never knew until a week before he left. He showed me a picture. Blonde – kind of looks like that other chick, Glimmer. Long hair, big tits. Hippy like you." Marvel laughed, "I thought he was delusional. I don't know what she got him into, but she was the last woman I thought he'd be with. Hell, I considered that maybe they had run off together, but then I remembered how set he was on having the Capitol lifestyle. It just didn't seem right."

Gale pocketed the letter. "She got a name?"

"I can't remember," Marvel muttered, "Something to do with sea? Man, I don't know. An old name."

Gale nodded his thanks and went to leave the office, but was stopped by Marvel's sniffing.

"You got any of that dope?"

* * *

**Talking to Marvel had been almost **a dead end. Almost. At least he'd gotten the letter, and what was sort of a name.

He was driving home from downtown, the radio blasting sweet psychedelic rhythms into the weekday afternoon. With one hand on the wheel and the other holding a cigarette, Gale looked the picture of ease cruising on the freeway back to his house by the beach. On the inside, it was a different story.

This case – if a case was even what it was – was bringing back too many memories from the past. Memories he would rather leave buried. Was it a coincidence that he would bump into one of his childhood best friends the same day he went to investigate the so-called "disappearance" of Cato Sullivan? He'd rather not get into the last time he had seen Bristel Fletcher. He didn't know where he stood with her, but her business card was tucked in his back pocket with the weight of too many years gone by. They had chatted like old times, taking the piss was easy – something he didn't have to think about until she left. Left him with the lingering wonder and puzzlement of what she had said. _"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call…"_

It sounded like she knew something, and that something troubled Gale a lot. What did she know? Did it have something to do with Cato? Gale had scribbled her number in his notebook just in case he lost her business card through the hole in his back pocket.

And Cato, damn that fucking Cato Sullivan. Gale had hoped he would never see him again, and this case was just leading him from one shitty lead to another. Glimmer, who basically had a hunch that this guy had been kidnapped, lead him to some suit with coke so far up his nose it was practically blowing out of his ass. Who knew where this Marvel was taking him. All he had to go on was a letter with no return address, and a name, but not a name - a woman with blonde hair and big tits. Fuck it could have been Glimmer he was talking about, although this Marvel was sure it wasn't. He had met Glimmer, and was pretty sure this other woman was getting Cato into trouble. Trouble Cato didn't seem to want to get involved in this time. Whatever was going on, an interest had started to swell up inside of Gale. It was beginning to roar, and he knew it was leading him to the Peacekeeper Brotherhood.

Glimmer had said they were out by the Old Arena, doing fuck knows for fuckin' Snow. That seemed to be his only lead. So he drove to Abernathy's to grab a beer and someone he could trust.

"You busy?" he asked Boggs as he walked up to his friend at the bar.

"Not got much going on, why?"

"Need your assistance." Gale puffed on his cigarette.

Twenty minutes later and they were in Gale's car headed south towards the outskirts of District 4 and the boundary of the Old Arena. The sun was setting and dusk was beginning to fall.

Boggs sat in the passengers seat, smoking from his joint. He was a big guy, a good head on his shoulders, who had come into some bad luck after he failed to do his job successfully. An ex-bodyguard, Boggs was built bigger than Gale, taller and wider across the shoulders with dark skin and darker eyes. He had met Gale in Abernathy's one night three years ago, and the two of them had been friends ever since.

Like Gale, Boggs was trying to forget his own life. Sadly for him, Boggs now worked for some club downtown on the nightshift, a job he hated but needed to be able to provide for his daughter. Usually on his night off no one could get him to leave his favourite stool by the bar that was close to the tap. But Gale was offering some fun, and running around in the dark spying on some dumbass MC wannabes sure sounded like fun.

They parked far out and walked a ways in through the trees.

The Old Arena was a once chartered area of Panem, but now it was just wilderness. No one knew quite why it was called the Old Arena. Apparently a few hundred years ago, it was used for some dumbass game where kids would fight to the death out in the wilderness for sport. People made some fucked up bets and got rich, or so Gale had heard. He figured it was lies, just a bunch of shit people told to keep their kids from going out into the unknown to get high and have sex. Every once in a while someone would go missing and people liked to say it was the ghosts of hundreds of kids picking their next tribute. That or they died getting lost or got picked up by some thugs – probably the Peacekeeper Brotherhood. Due to it being unchartered, the Old Arena was usually used for some illegal drug activity. It didn't surprise Gale that Snow was up to some shady business out in the wild.

There was an old parking lot at the border that was unwatched, and empty save for a rusty old bicycle that Gale assumed had been abandoned. He had been out here a few times: going on hikes; buying weeds form a guy, until the poor sod got himself killed by overdosing on heroin. He knew the area pretty well, and figured he knew where Snow could possibly be.

They walked in through the woods for half a mile. There was an old building a while out, and Gale guessed they'd be there. It was a lucky guess too. One thing that Gale was good at was thinking like the person he was searching for, that's why he'd become a P.I. He figured he could think like a criminal without being a criminal and still get paid for it. He had also been high as fuck when he filled in the form for a licence and was shocked to say the least when he received his actual licence.

Before they came to the building, they saw lights. They crouched down in the bushes, hiding from view and watched a group of men dressed in white walk around to the back of an old pick-up truck.

"Who the fuck are these guys?" Boggs said.

"Shh…" Gale hushed, watching what was going on from the dirty ground. His knees were filthy but he crawled forward a bit to get a better view. He was in his element.

He reached for his notepad, and that's when he saw Snow.

The oil tycoon was in his sixties, white haired, as his name would suggest. He always wore a spotless white suit with a frilly rose in his breast pocket. To Gale, it looked like he was arguing with someone. They were too far away for Gale to hear anything, yet they didn't appear to be saying anything. Snow did all the talking, and although Gale could barely hear him, he could see them clearly.

One man – of the Peacekeeper brotherhood – reached behind him to one of his brothers, who handed him a white bag. He passed it to Snow who cut through the bag with a knife and tasted the white substance within.

It was a few seconds before Snow spoke again. And by the looks of things, it wasn't going down well. He tossed the bag to a man behind him dressed in black with the most ridiculous beard Gale had ever seen, and pulled out a gun and shot the brother point blank. Blood spattered over Snow's suit. The body fell limp to the ground, and Gale watched in shock as Snow turned his back to talk to his men.

Gale opened his notebook to make a quick note of the licence plate of the car that was parked behind Snow, but realised he didn't have a pen.

"Fuck, you got a pen Boggs?" Gale muttered.

He watched Snow shrug out of his jacket and threw it down on the ground by the dead body.

"Boggs!" Gale hissed. He made to turn, but got a glimpse of a woman with her pale arm wrapped around his friend's throat. Gale almost laughed at her skinny ass arm, until he saw the shine of a knife.

"Don't move!" the woman held the knife to Boggs's throat. Her long blonde hair was flowing to the rhythm of the breeze. Her face was free of make-up, and displayed wide frightened blue eyes.

Gale would notice those blue eyes anywhere. Damn, he'd spent his half his teenage years trying to forget those eyes, and his twenties trying to remember them.

"Gale Hawthorne?" the woman asked, shock written all over her pretty face.

Gale's heart thundered in his chest, and he craved a cigarette.

"Madge Undersee?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Ain't gonna need to tell the truth, tell no lie_

_Everything you think, do and say_

_Is in the pill you took today_

Zager And Evans – In The Year 2525

Chapter 2 – Last Night

**It clicked as soon as he** said her name.

_"__Something to do with the sea…"_ Marvel had said.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Madge was frantic. She released Boggs from her hold and scooted back on the dirty ground holding the knife out in front of her like a frightened animal ready to be attacked. She was covered in gravel, mud and twigs. Her long legs were bare apart from wearing a pair of cut off shorts, and her white bardot top was even smudged with dirt. She was hardly the same girl in the pristine summer dresses he knew from before.

Gale shared a look with Boggs, making sure everything was groovy with him. Or as groovy as one could be in a fucked up situation like this.

Boggs was tending to a knick on his neck where Madge's knife had drawn a small drop of blood, but a part from that he was whole and well.

"I could ask you the same thing, Princess."

Madge narrowed her eyes at the old nickname.

Just then the sound of voices grew louder as two men came closer to the outskirts of the clearing, close by to where the three were hiding in the bush. They were joking around, muttering about their guns casually swinging them as they would if they were playing with their dicks.

"Dumbasses," Madge muttered.

The two men then located some shovels and began to dig a fairly shallow grave for the poor soul whose life had ended moments ago. Madge – who Gale would expect to be a crying mess in such a situation as this – spoke in quiet conviction and determination, "We have to get of here."

Gale glanced back at the scene through the bushes out to where Snow's men were clearing up the mess. Depositing the poor brother in a black bag and transporting him over to where his gravediggers were messing with the shovels now. Snow was gone, nowhere to be seen, and the man with the fucking dumb shit beard was left in charge. He had a feral look in his eyes almost as sinister as Snow. This was sure not groovy.

"I agree with the girl on this one," Boggs muttered from Gale's right.

Gale was no scaredy cat, but he valued his life greatly.

"Ok. Let's head back to the beach."

* * *

**Madge was quiet in the** **car, **quieter than Gale expected. She seemed so sure of herself out in the woods, that he was surprised by how quiet she now was. He didn't know what to do with her if he was being honest. He didn't even know how she got in his car. Although he did know that wherever she came from, she was directly tied to Snow and his dealings, no matter her intentions.

He remembered her as the sweet girl he went to High School with. Sure he told her to her face that he thought she was a spoiled, rich brat, but only because she was so damn nice. There was something about her that he just couldn't put his finger on. There was this jealousy he felt, sure, no doubt about it. He was poor and she was rich. When he was young he would have given anything to have money. His family was poor, but they made do. He was even able to get a scholarship to college, but that was after he said all those horrible things to her. She was also incredibly pretty – one of the prettiest girls in school – and of course he assumed that she'd get everything handed to her based on her looks. He liked to overlook the fact that she was smart, funny, talented and able to hold her own. She always met his snide comments with quick retort. Despite this, he made no effort to hide his dislike for Madge and the other Townies he went to school with. Later he would feel bad about it, and hell, even now he felt bad about it. But back then if you didn't have money, there was no way you were going to get out of that hellhole of a place that was District 12, and Gale had always felt jealous of those who could afford to move away. Of course, he didn't know at the time that he would get a scholarship, or indeed end up across the country. It was indeed different now, and he knew he had been an idiot before he had found the sweet world of psychedelia.

So when she climbed in the back seat of his car, Gale didn't object. He just turned on the music and some sweet rhymes came drifting out of his radio player, filling the silence as they all sat in quiet contemplation.

Back in District 4's surfers' paradise – where Gale called home – he dropped Boggs off back at Abernathy's and drove to his house. All the while Madge sat quietly in the back seat. Not saying a word even when Gale asked if she wanted to ride shotgun once Boggs had vacated the vehicle.

When they pulled up at Gale's, he turned to her, leaning his arm on the back of his seat and watching as Madge sat quietly looking at her hands. He waited for her to speak, but when she didn't he coughed to clear the silence.

"Do you have someplace to stay?" he asked.

She said nothing, just continued to stare at her hands.

Gale pursed his lips. His fingers were itching to light a cigarette.

"Come on, Undersee." He reached for the door of the car, "You can crash with me."

He walked up to his front door, strangely pleased when he heard her get out of the car and follow him.

Opening the door and turning on the light, Gale led Madge into his shabby little bungalow. Surfboard by the door, collection of flip flops strewn over the floor, mint green walls and a mounted boar's head hanging proudly on the living room wall. If Madge was horrified by the animal and poor taste décor she never let it be known. She simply stood by the now closed front door, with a look on her face as if she was fighting some internal battle.

Not knowing what to do, Gale took a seat on the couch and lit up a cigarette. He reached for the pencil on the coffee table and found his notepad in his shirt pocket, trying to relay everything he remembered from the Snow-watching-shoot out that happened this evening. But he couldn't concentrate. Not when Madge Undersee – long lost Madge Undersee – was standing at his front door possibly having a mental breakdown. She had just witnessed a murder. He hadn't thought about it for long, but he did wonder what she had been doing out there with Snow and the Brotherhood. He had seen his fair share of guys meeting their end, so much so that he knew not to dwell on the poor bastard, but Madge? Pretty and perky Madge seemed to have been through a lot; wherever she had been, plus the murder, and then holding a knife to poor Boggs's throat, Gale was sure about that.

Looking over at her now, Gale decided to be a gentleman. He would ask her to take a seat, but he didn't want to get dirt all over his sofa. She looked like she needed a shower, and he knew better than to say that to her face, so Gale stood up and went to her.

This time when he looked in her eyes, she looked back. She had some determination; he'd give her that. Not a tear had been shed despite her looking like the floodgates had been about to burst since she set foot in his car. He sure as hell didn't want a crying girl in his house, so he simply held out his hand for her to take.

After looking down at it, Madge placed her hand in his, and Gale smiled softly. He led her to his bathroom where the bath come shower was – she could decide what she wanted to do. He let go of her hand to source her some clean towels and then laid them on the downturned toilet seat and left the room to find a change of clothes for her. As he was looking for a clean t-shirt and maybe some shorts, he heard the sound of the bath water running.

Returning to the bathroom, he found her sitting on the edge of the bath, toeing off her shoes and watching the water slowly fill the tub. He left the clothes by the towels and spoke softly so as not to disturb her quiet, "There's some bubble mixture by the shampoo," He liked to use the bubbles sometimes when he had an important date to go on. "They're real groovy."

He turned to leave, but had a second thought.

"You can take the bed," he offered. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

Not waiting for her to respond, he left the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind him. He missed her soft 'thank you' and the following onslaught of tears that Madge let lose when she was finally left alone.

But Gale was none the wiser having taken back his seat on the couch and puffing on his cigarette. He turned on the TV, kicked of his boots, and lay back. Somewhere between Caesar Flickerman throwing a cream pie at someone's face and it actually hitting the poor sod, Gale's eyes drifted closed and he began to snore.

* * *

**When Gale woke up** he found the front door open wide and the door to his bedroom where Madge had been sleeping open too. His first thought was about Madge Undersee's golden hair, followed by _Shit! They've fuckin' taken her!_

He scrambled to his feet and headed straight for outside. He almost didn't hear the voices as he sprinted right passed the two women on the front porch.

"There he is," one voice said, "looking like a bat straight outa hell,"

Gale stopped in his tracks and turned to find his elderly neighbour, Mrs Newbury, sitting on a deck chair with Madge in the chair beside her. Madge was in his t-shirt and shorts, and her skin was looking immaculately clean. Her blonde hair was practically glimmering in the morning sun and he was suddenly breathless. She smiled and Gale had to get a grip on himself before this went sour.

"I made a pot of coffee," Madge said, quietly, "If you want some. I hope you don't mind."

Gale was taken aback. Should he be angry that she was making herself at home in his home? He didn't know. They had barely spoken three words to each other since their run in last night, but he felt oddly ok with this scenario.

He grunted and made a move to the kitchen where he found said pot of coffee and a mug already laid out for him. He poured himself a cup and grabbed his cigarettes heading back outside, where he could hear Madge laughing softly at something Mrs Newbury said.

Looking up at his arrival, Gale's neighbour got up to move. "I'll leave you two kids to it," and winked at Gale.

He took the now empty seat and sipped his coffee. He took out a cigarette, lit up, then passed the pack to Madge, who took one, popped it in her mouth, and let Gale light it for her. She inhaled and then exhaled a large cloud of smoke sighing at the same time.

Gale watched her, wandering what she was thinking.

"Did you sleep ok?" he asked.

Madge nodded, smiling slightly. "I did. Thank you." She looked up at him shyly, "I'm so sorry about everything. I know I shouldn't have stayed, but I don't have anywhere to go."

She looked out over the clear blue ocean that lay before them beyond the other beach houses. "I'll get out of your hair today soon as I can find someone to shack up with."

"No," Gale said before he even knew what he was doing, "Stay,"

Madge looked over at him, obvious surprise evident on her face. "Gale, I don't want to impose,"

He coughed, struggling to understand what he was feeling.

"Stay, really. Madge, I don't know what you've got going on with Snow and the Brotherhood, but…" then it hit him, a perfect excuse, "…but, I was, I am working on a case."

She seemed confused.

"I'm a P.I." he elaborated, "Someone came to me about Snow, and since you are obviously connected, I was wondering if you could maybe help me out." He shrugged.

Madge looked down at the cigarette in her hand, contemplating what he just said, "Gale, I don't think you understand what he's all about,"

"Then help me understand," Gale said. He reached for her hand, and took it from across the table. "C'mon, I know we had our differences in school. For crying out loud look at me," he laughed, and Madge smiled again and this time it almost lit up her whole face. He would happily make it his life's mission to make Madge Undersee smile. "Just stay, and we can work on the case together."

She laughed, "I have no clothes, Gale!"

"Shit, I'll pay you, and you can buy some new ones." He was speaking now, and had no idea what he was saying, "If you want to stay, feel free to stay."

She was looking so vulnerable and scared, Gale just wanted to make her feel safe. It was some primal instinct he was feeling. Man, he'd never felt this before. He needed to get high soon.

Slowly, Madge nodded, "Ok," she murmured, "I'll stay."

"Groovy," he smirked, and sipped his coffee.

They sat and watched the people passing by the front of his house for a little while. Late surfers making their way down to the beach to try and catch a few waves before it got too busy.

Gale thought about how he had gone from having a bachelor pad to having a hot emotional roommate in less than a day. If he was going to make this work he was going to have to broach the subject of what she was doing out there in the woods with Snow and the Brotherhood. After a few moments of deliberation, he felt that it would be best to just ask.

"So," he murmured, working up to how to phrase it. "I was –"

"You want to know what I was doing out by the Old Arena," she said before he could even form a sentence to say.

Gale nodded, "Yeah."

Madge sighed, "I was dating this guy,"

"Cato," Gale provided the name.

Madge frowned, "How did you –"

"The case I'm following up," He didn't want to mention too much. There was this trust issue that he hadn't thought of before now. Did he really know Madge? Did he trust her? He trusted her enough to let her live in his humble abode, but maybe not with all the facts of this case? Perhaps he'd been a bit too forward with them working together on it. Either way, he'd see where this conversation would go and then take it from there.

"Ok. Well, I was dating Cato, he's not usually my type but he was pretty persistent in asking me out, so eventually I agreed." She finished off her coffee, "He was a sweet guy… Sometimes." She made a face, "But yeah, anyway, he wasn't the worst guy I've dated."

She was playing with her coffee cup, "It was going well, I guess. We met in District 7 – I was out there traveling and he was on business. I introduced him to the psychedelic scene. He said he smoked some pot in college," she smiled then to herself, "But he'd never experienced it like this."

Gale could actually recall a time when he'd smoked with Cato all those years ago, but decided to leave that out of conversation with her for now.

"He was pretty uptight, so I liked to think I was showing him this new world, ya'know?"

She sighed then, and Gale predicted that the story was going to turn sour round about now.

"Little over a month ago, he tells me he's been offered this job, and that he's going to quit Pan Fin. I was confused at first, he loved that job, but then he told me he had been 'specially recruited' by Snow. I figured it was important stuff – oil and all that. There're some serious figures involved in that shit.

"So he went to work for Snow, and I stayed in his place. It got pretty lonely. I mean, I had been living with him for a while by that point, and he worked late sometimes, but never this late. Some nights he wouldn't come home. And we weren't in a serious relationship, but I was worried about him. Sometimes he'd get these calls, and then would just get up and leave. This happened a few times, and when I asked what he was doing he'd get really defensive about it. So one night I decided to follow him."

"Last night?" Gale asked.

Madge nodded.

"I followed him for a good while out to the docks. Then he got on a boat and I couldn't follow him no more. He looked different though. Like there was this new edge I hadn't seen. He was always a bit of a live wire, sure of himself. Last night he looked almost fidgety.

"I waited until the boat set sail, and decided to head on home. That's when I heard some voices. I couldn't be sure what the actual conversation was about but there was something about an urgent meeting by the Old Arena. I had heard of it a few times growing up as a kid, as you do, so I decided to follow them all the while thinking what the fuck had Cato gotten himself into. I tried to follow them as far as I could, but I mustn't have been as stealthy as I thought I was being. Tripped on some root or some shit and fell." She sighed, and hugged her arms around herself – looking for some kind of comfort Gale guessed.

"I tried to hide in amongst the bushes but I wasn't quick enough. They caught me…" She shivered then despite the heat, "…I was so scared, Gale… I didn't know what to do. I thought that was me done for. I was scared they were going to…" Her voice got quieter and she trailed off then, looking out towards the sea.

"One of them took me to their car, the other said he'd be back soon." She laughed then, a humourless laugh, "I guess my luck finally kicked in, and I was left with the skinny one. I was able to get him to let go off me. Kicked him in the balls, and grabbed this knife he had strapped to his belt, and I took off."

Gale waited a moment until she seemed to collect herself a bit. He wasn't really sure what to do. Like last night he desperately hoped she wouldn't start crying. He really did not do tears, but looking at Madge now made him think that there was something there that didn't want to see her cry on some deeper level. He shrugged it off.

"Why not run for your car? Why come back to the woods?"

Madge shrugged, "I wasn't thinking straight." She murmured. "I was scareed he'd recover and catch me. I thought I'd have more of a chance to lose him in dark. I lost him and found you instead."

Gale accepted this but was getting desperate for something to go on here. He jotted down some things she said – the 'special recruitment', mysterious phone calls, and the whereabouts of said boat Cato departed on – but there wasn't much of a lead.

Something just didn't feel right though. He reckoned there were certainly many things she was not telling him. There were a hell of a lot of black holes in her story, but she looked so damn sad he didn't want to press any further. He could stake out the shipyard, but after last night's ordeal with Snow's gun rampage, Gale was a little chicken shit and valued his ass too highly.

"Nothing stick out to you from before last night that I can go on?"

Madge took a second to think, hummed and hawed, and then, "I remember him saying something one night at the start. He had got a phone call one night, and when I confronted him about where he was heading off to he said something about some Monuments building. Don't know what national monuments have got to do with oil, but then again, I didn't think Snow would shoot a man point blank for what looked like crappy coke."

"Hmm…"

_Crappy coke indeed._

Deciding to just go for it, he stood and went inside. When he returned, he had his car keys in hand.

"I'll be back."

* * *

**The National Monuments building** could be found downtown. Located by an old pizza joint Gale had visited a few times with some feisty redhead. He recalled the ever-present lingering scent of dough and pepperoni. Sure enough, the smell tingled up into his nose and his belly craved a hot slice. He vowed to pay a buck once he was done with his snooping.

Feeling mighty groovy in yesterday's clothes, Gale sauntered on up to the front door, and with every bit of cool and aloof he had reached for the door handle, but to his embarrassment it was damn shut. Here he hadn't taken into account that it was a Sunday.

Not wanting to attract attention to himself from acting like a fool, he shrugged and made way for his car but stopped short when he saw a sign but the door.

**Open Day - 26th June**

** Public Welcome to view District 4's best Monuments**

Gale was pretty sure this place housed District 4's only monuments. It was sort of like a museum-come-library for those interested in the history of District 4 and our Great Nation of Panem. He did some simple math calculation and deducted that June 26th was tomorrow. Well he'd just have to come back the next day.

It wasn't a total loss though. He sprung by the pizza place and brought home a meat feast for breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

_"__And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall,_

_Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call,_

_And call Alice, when she was just small."_

Jefferson Airplane – White Rabbit

Chapter 3 – Surfers' Paradise

**Gale was a man of many principles. **He always shined his tanned leather shoes, he enjoyed the occasional whisky with no ice, and he always combed his hair in the morning. But today as he looked on the ledge below his kitchen window, he felt nothing but utter disappointment in himself. A real proper lack of pride. For sitting in front of him was truly a dismal sight. His potted plants that lined the ledge were all now a sickly colour of yellow, having dried up completely from sitting in the sun too long without refreshment.

He racked his brain for when he last watered them and couldn't remember. Some plant-carer he was. He was a killer. But there was hope yet.

Refusing to give up without a fight, he grabbed a cup from the drying rack, filled it with cold tap water, and proceeded to disperse the water between his plants, giving a little bit more to the ones who were in dire need.

Satisfied, he stood back to admire his mini garden. "They'll be lush," he murmured as a promise.

A small giggle sounded behind him, and he turned to find Madge standing by the fridge across from him.

She was wearing one of his old navy t-shirts he used to wear back in college and the pair of jean shorts she had wore the night he found her – now washed, dried and free from dirt. Her hair hung low down her back and Gale was momentarily stunned by how beautiful she was in that moment.

"It'll take a miracle to cure those poor plants,"

Gale smirked, "Baby, I'm the green doctor, and I prescribe a good old cool down."

Madge burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands. Despite her best efforts, Gale had the sneaky suspicion that she was hiding a blush. In fact, whenever he called her baby she seemed to blush a delectable shade of red. Hell, he'd call her that every time he spoke to her if it could embarrass her.

"Hey, I've got to head into the office today, then I'll drop by the Monuments Building." He said drying off the cup he used to water the plants. "I can drop you off somewhere if you want?"

He meant to say it casually but realised when Madge's eyes began to bulge and then fluttered closed. She didn't want to go back to Cato's. And he didn't want her to leave either if he was being honest. Madge didn't have to say it, Gale could guess.

"How about I drop you off Downtown and you can go shopping?" He suggested instead.

She instantly looked up and shook her head; "I don't have any money on me, Gale. And before you say it, no, I can't take your money. I'm already living in your home and eating your food."

"How about I drive you back to Cato's? Hell, I'll even help you grab some of your stuff and I can drop you off back here?" He was grasping for ways to make her stay.

Madge contemplated the idea, and eventually nodded her head. Yes, she liked that idea.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket and lit one up. He sucked in a breath then exhaled long a slow. He offered Madge one but she served him a shady look. _Oh right, she feels bad about using my stuff._

Gale had to admit that he never realised that his sudden generosity might not only be completely one-sided, but incredibly puzzling. Since he met her again two nights ago everything he had done had been to make sure she felt safe; letting her sleep in his bed, using his shower and clothes. Yesterday he brought home two pizzas that they both shared on his front porch whilst drinking beer he'd bought at the store. They had ate and laughed until the flies came and then they had washed up after – something Gale was good at from experience. They had never once spoke about their past, especially the time they had known each other in High School. Sometimes Madge would open her mouth as if she was going to blurt something out, or she would get a look in her eyes if she couldn't quite believe the man across from her was Gale Hawthorne.

He knew what she was thinking, but a lot about Gale had changed since the last time he had seen her. It was a topic of conversation that he just wasn't comfortable with talking about… yet.

It had been less than two days since Madge Undersee had crawled back into his life, and she and the information she brought with her had shaken him up. Caught up in all the excitement since Saturday Gale had momentarily forgotten about his other work obligations. He had a long list of clients that needed his investigation services, so today was the day to hit the office.

* * *

**Cato's place was Downtown not too far from **Panem Financials. Madge had a key to the flat that was in an old building that used to be a fire station. Madge told Gale that Cato had got it during a dip in the market, and the value of the property had increased since then. Gale didn't linger on thoughts of Cato 's financial success.

They parked outside and Gale ran to the parking meter as Madge unlocked the front door to the building. He followed her up the stairs and into Cato's apartment. It was nice, Gale had to admit. Exposed brick work with a wall of wood panelling. He had a newspaper rack and houseplants (that Gale stamped with approval for them looking lush and healthy – a stark comparison to his own).

Madge must have caught him looking at the greenery and gave a giggle as she made her way to another room – one Gale assumed was the bedroom.

"I've been watering those plants since I moved in, Green Doctor. How 'bout I take over the meds?"

Gale chuckled and let his eyes follow Madge into the next room.

He hadn't given Madge's relationship with Cato much thought, but now that he was standing in the guy's flat his thoughts turned sour. Madge had been in a relationship with Cato – meaning they had almost certainly done the dirty, in this apartment, on this floor for all Gale knew.

He found it hard to imagine Madge being with the slime ball he knew from college, but then again some chicks digged the arseholes. He had been labelled that – and more ghastly names – in the past and he liked to think he'd changed. He liked to think Cato hadn't changed purely for spite. What a girl like Madge would want to do with a jerk like Cato, Gale would never know.

Since he happened to be in this swanky pad, Gale decided to do what P.I.s did best and have a good ol' snoop around. Like his plants and their struggle for water, Gale had a dire thirst for clues. Glimmer hadn't given him much, and nor had Madge – he didn't want to probe her for information and make her uncomfortable so he decided to keep holding of on any interrogations for now.

There were few things he did know. For instance, Cato had been receiving mysterious phone calls. Perhaps that could provide him with a lead.

Gale investigated the table where the telephone sat, pulling out his notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. There was a stack of papers to the side of the orange handset which he began to sift through. One was a gas bill and another the telephone bill. He had a few from a – shall we say, an adult magazine? – subscription that was up for renewal. Gale snorted, if he had Madge in his bed there would be no need for any paper supplements that's for sure.

Just when he thought he was hitting nowhere he spotted a scrap of lined paper with a number on it. It had no name or company to which it could possibly belong.

He heard Madge in the next room humming and Gale stepped through to the bedroom.

"Any idea who's this number is?"

Madge looked up from the bag she was packing and frowned.

"Oh yeah," she murmured as recognition hit, "I was in alone one night when this guy called asking for Cato. I said he wasn't in and if I could take a message. The guy on the phone said to give him this number but didn't leave his name." She shrugged, "I guess it might be one of Snow's men."

Gale nodded, happy to be finally making some progress.

"Do you remember what he sounded like? Deep voice? Any identifier?"

It was worth a shot, Gale thought.

Madge shook her head, "Not that I can think of, no. It was definitely a man's voice, quite deep. Normal really. He wasn't rude either."

Gale accepted the information and put the piece of paper between the pages of his notebook.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep!" She smiled. Gale took her bag, "I really appreciate it you letting me stay with you, Gale."

She walked ahead of him and Gale had to keep his eyes from wandering to her backside.

"Like I said, baby, it's not a problem at all."

* * *

**Gale's office was not what one would typically** expect from a guy like him, but then again maybe it was what one would exactly expect. After dropping Madge at his place and telling her that there was a crowd gathering on the beach and that she should go join, he headed downtown to an area that wasn't quite run down, but hadn't developed as well as the rest of the sunny area.

His office was located in the back of a salon. He had met a woman by the name of Effie Trinket through an old friend of his, and she had just happened to have an empty office through the back of her small sole trader. Gale had just happened to need an empty office.

The salon was called 'Effie's Glitzy Glamour Lounge' and you could get your hair and nails done for what Gale assumed was a reasonable price.

One night when Gale was working late and had shot down more than a few glasses of whisky, Effie had waltzed on into his office and dragged him out. She then coerced him into getting a pedicure. After the red varnish had dried, she performed – what he would describe as – her kinkiest fantasies on Gale's big toes. She sucked on them like a lollipop, and Gale wasn't sure whether to be shocked or turned on. He was a little bit of both. They had ended up fucking on the reception desk and the next day Gale had ran to the store to buy nail polish remover. There had been no funny business since.

"Hey Eff, how's it goin' today?"

She was washing a customer's hair when Gale entered. Her face immediately turned sour at Gale's presence, which was almost laughable considering how she was dressed.

Effie Trinket was a tad eccentric. She liked to look different, as if she had never grown out of the five-year old-kid-trying-on-their-mother's-makeup-and-clothes phase. Her hair was sporting a blue rinse and it was piled on top of her head kept in place by a tacky fastening in the shape of a cobra. The cobra was her spirit animal. She had told Gale this fact the night he was insider her. She had thrown her head back wildly and bit Gale's shoulder. It was safe to say that that part of the performance was what drove Gale into hiding.

Her work uniform was pale pink and she resembled an ice-cream cone: bubble-gum flavoured. He wondered if Madge would want to go for an ice-cream with him later.

"Where have you been? I thought you were coming in an hour ago?" Effie was pissed.

Gale at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. "Got caught up in something." He shrugged.

"We'll there's a young lady through the back waiting for you. She's been sitting an awful long time." She enjoyed being short with him. It was probably the cobra in her that brought it out. It liked to unleash its wrath on Gale. If he had been high right now, he would probably be tripping major reptilian style.

Not wanting to stay in her presence any longer he escorted himself to the back of the salon through the door labelled in pink glitter 'Staff'.

Going through this door lead him to a corridor where several other rooms connected. Effie had her stock room and a small kitchen of the hall, and at the end was Gale's office. It was a box room but big enough to fit a desk, his chair, a few filing cabinets and two plush chairs for clients. In the corridor were three chairs. One was currently occupied.

A thin woman with mousy brown hair and a pinched face (as though she smelt something bad) looked up as Gale entered. (He thought the smell was maybe him, but ignored the dig on his exterior.)

"I believe you're Mr Hawthorne," the woman stood, "I'm Clove Gloss." She held out her hand for him to shake.

"You can call me Gale," he smirked. Clove's face remained cold and stoic.

When he realised his charms weren't going to work on her, he put on his Mr Business face. "Apologies for the wait. I had some stuff to take care of this morning. Please." He motioned for her to take a seat in his office.

"So how can I help you, Ma'am?"

She cut right to the chase, "My husband is cheating on me. I would like hard proof."

"And you don't have any proof? Are you sure he's cheating?"

"I found these in his car," she held up a pair of red lacy panties, scrunching up her face like they were carrying disease.

"Are you sure they're not yours?" Gale smiled.

Clove didn't like his attempt at a joke.

"I want you to follow him, take a few pictures… whatever it is you people do…"

Gale pretended to be hurt at the stab at his profession.

"How long do you think it'll take you?"

What a feisty woman she was.

"Well these things take as long as they need to." He shrugged, "Can you give me some information about him? Name, profession, local hangout spots. Does he have any hobbies? What does he look like?"

She rattled off the information and Gale took a note of it. She reached into her bag and pulled out a photo of her and Mr Gloss on their wedding day. Even on what was meant to be the happiest day of their lives, Clove looked like she was ready for business. Gloss looked several years older than Clove, with dirty blonde hair and a striking face. They made a strange couple.

"Nice photograph," Gale muttered.

"This type of case generally involves tailing him. I'll follow his car, see if he's up to anything… naughty… and take a few snaps. Do you have an address I can send them to?"

After getting her contact details, Gale escorted Clove back through to the salon and out the front door. She didn't want to hang around, and Gale couldn't blame her. Effie and her staff, Octavia, Flavius and Venia, were performing a rendition of songs from the musical 'Chop Down Those Redwoods!'. It was the only thing to come out of District 7's entertainment scene since 'The Naked Lumberjacks'.

Gale scurried back to his office seeking refuge.

Sitting back in his desk chair, Gale pulled out his notepad. The lined piece of paper fell out and landed on his desk. He thought for a moment as to who the caller could be, and decided to have a bash at calling it.

He dialled and heard the call being registered as it started to ring.

On the fourth ring it was answered. "Hello?"

Having been a P.I. for a considerable number of years, Gale had a rough idea of how to act in a situation like this. Putting some facts together he derived at a sort of character he could play. His plan could go one of two ways: one, the receiver wouldn't buy Gale's spiel and hang up right at the sound of his bullshit; or two, the poor sod would eat Gale's words as if God himself were speaking them.

"Hello, am I speaking to the home owner?" Gale asked in his polite voice.

"Yes?" the gentleman asked on the line.

"I'm calling in regards to a complaint that's been made against your property."

"A complaint?" the voice began to sound worried.

"Yes. A neighbour of yours has reported a noise disturbance and littering. Are you aware of these allegations?"

"No, not at all. I had a few friends around the other night, but I don't think we made a lot of noise."

Gale nodded forgetting he was on the phone.

"Can you provide me with your address for our records? I would like to make a formal visit to investigate this further. The person who made the complaint was rather unsettled."

There was a pause on the receiver's end.

"Can I ask who made the complaint?" the voice sounded agitated.

"I'm afraid I can't give you that information." Gale hummed.

The man sighed. "I really have no idea how this could have happened. I'm hardly home." He sounded almost upset.

"I'm sure the complaint has no grounds. But you understand that I have to follow this up?"

"Yes, I understand."

Gale knew he had cracked him. "Listen, it's alright. My name is Peter Topher," …Gale's go to fake name – an old mate who ran track, "I can come over, have a look around the property and make sure there's nothing to worry about. A concerned neighbour, someone who has perhaps been in a bad mood at the time, has most likely made the complaint. How does that sound?"

"Ok, that would be good." He told Gale his address.

"I'm at home tomorrow if you want to stop by then, Mr Topher?"

"That would be excellent. Thank you for your cooperation."

Gale smirked as he hung up the phone.

_Good work, Mr Topher._

* * *

**Gale sauntered over to the front desk**; careful to make sure he crept up on the unsuspecting receptionist. There was something about receptionists that made Gale want to flirt with them, just to ruffle their feathers and see how they'd squirm.

Today's young lady couldn't be more than eighteen and blushed as Gale gave her a wink.

"How… can I help you, sir?" she stuttered over her words.

Gale wasn't jaw-droppingly attractive, but he was handsome and from time to time there was the occasional little bird that could barely make a chirp at him. He knew he had good genes.

"I saw the sign outside, and was wondering if I could have a look around," he leaned forward so his tanned forearm was resting on the top of the desk.

"The exhibition?" the girl squeaked.

Gale nodded.

The girl stood from the chair, straightening her pencil skirt and pulling down her shirt. Gale let his eyes wander.

"If you go down the hall, just there." She pointed down the corridor to his right, "It'll lead you to the room the exhibition is in."

Gale gave her one last smirk and walked in the direction she had shown him. He passed a woman pushing a trolley filled with manila files, and several glass cabinets containing jars with some weird shit in them. Gale strolled on passed.

He came to the hall where the monuments on show were. There were some people and a few families wandering about. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, and how it could possibly be tied to Snow and Cato. So he took out his notepad and flipped to the page he was looking for.

Madge had said something about Cato taking a trip to this building, perhaps to value something? Cato was a financial man, he knew how to put a price on objects. Gale figured Cato had been called to find something for Snow. But what did this have to do with Snow's oil business or – as Madge put it – _crappy coke_?

Gale wandered around, looking at some of District 4's best historical pieces. There was a range of nets that were displayed along a timeline showing how it had been developed over the years. In the centre of the room was a glass cabinet showcasing a glowing trident.

He stumbled upon a book on a pedestal that catalogued a number of other objects that were obviously unable to be shown in this exhibit. Some were marked with a red dot, much like what one would find in an art gallery. Could people buy these? Gale considered this and thought it made sense. At least for some of the less important monuments. But weren't these public property? He had some questions for the blushing bird at the front desk.

He flipped through the book, looking more at the ones marked with the red dots. None seemed to catch his eye until he saw it. It had been marked with a green dot, and he had no idea what that meant but there it was.

The cornucopia.

Here he was getting some answers.

In this book, the cornucopia was depicted as a large steal horn – "the horn of plenty" and was the symbol of abundance and nourishment. What that had to do with Snow, he didn't know. If the cornucopia had an abundance of oil or drugs then maybe it would mean something. But Gale had the feeling he was running a wild goose chase.

Glimmer told him to 'beware'. There was obviously something more to this than what was on the surface. He didn't know what else to look for, and he desperately needed a cigarette, so he headed on out back to the reception.

There was no time for fun and games as he made his way back to the girl at the front desk.

"Excuse me? Could you tell me what the red and green dots on some of the monuments were through there?"

The girl looked up at him wide-eyed. She batted her lashes, "The – the red dots are ones that have been sold, and the green ones… well they're the ones we're looking for."

Gale frowned, confused.

"Looking for? What you don't have them in this building?"

She shook her head, "Most of them – the small ones that is – are kept in storage here. Other – bigger ones – are kept in a warehouse. There are some, however, that… that we don't have anymore or have never had." It was like she was reciting a script for answering the FAQs.

"So, not to say I do, but if I had, say that cornucopia, I could donate it to you?"

The girl nodded.

"Are these items not public property?"

The girl shrugged, obviously not knowing. Her script didn't stretch this far.

"Fair enough," Gale scrunched up his face, processing all this information. "Thanks for your help."

* * *

**When he arrived back at his place and found** it empty he thought he'd take a stroll on down to the beach to see if he could find Madge. The night was growing colder and the sun was lowering in the sky.

The waterfront was still busy but not as bustling as it had been earlier. Families lined the boardwalk and hippies crowded on the beach to listen to what Gale could tell from the distance was the cool tones of The Tridents – a local hippie band on the verge of making it big.

At the end of their song, the band took a break and Gale watched as their frontman, Finnick Odair, made his way off stage and through the throng of fans to two girls watching from their spot on the sand. Recognising the girl with dark hair to be Finn's old lady, Annie, Gale was presently surprised – and relieved – to find Madge sitting beside her. On his approach, Finn seemed to spot Gale and smiled, waving him over.

Finnick was the local nice-guy. He had grown up on the waves and had not only had a passion for music, but a passion for Annie. Gale had lived in this area for nearing eight years, and at that time Annie and Finn had been a couple going strong. They hadn't waited long to tie the knot and Gale had even got an invite to the wedding which took place on a quieter beach just a few miles up the coast. When Gale moved to town, he had immediately hit it off with Finn, and Annie was quick to make friends with Gale too. They had two kids, who Gale guessed were with a sitter. The Odairs were the perfect little family, and Gale was 99.9% jealous. He was happy Madge had found herself in such good company.

"Hey man," Finn greeted him as Gale took a seat in the sand next to Madge. He sent her a wink, which caused her to blush.

"How's it goin'?" Gale returned and lit a cigarette.

"Madge was telling us you went to High School together. When were you planning on introducing us?" Annie asked only half-jokingly. Gale knew she was secretly offended – and curious – that he hadn't brought her round to the Odair's the day she landed on his doorstep.

"Ah well, you know me," Gale smirked, "I was plannin' on inviting you and the kids over for steak night but you've gone and spoiled the surprise by finding Madge down here."

Annie scrunched her eyes at him and he was prepared for a scolding. Finn saved the day though, exchanging a look with Gale like he was in on some secret. He might be a hippy musician, but Finnick was smart and observant having grown up fishing for a living.

"We'll leave you two to it then. Should be heading back to the kids, and I've got to help the band pack up." He stood up from the sand, and helped Annie get to her feet. Gale and Madge stood as well, and Annie hugged Madge goodbye.

"It was lovely to meet you, Madge. You and Gale should come round one night for dinner."

"Oh I wouldn't like to intrude…" Madge started, but Annie cut her off.

"Don't be silly. I always feel much better knowing Gale's having a good meal. I know he cooks well, but I think sometimes that pot takes up too much of his time."

"Hey, I'm standin' right here."

"Anyway, we should hang out soon."

Madge nodded. She looked happy, Gale thought. He hadn't seen her looking so relaxed. Annie had that effect, he supposed.

The couple held hands and made their way back through the crowd to where the next band had started to play.

The sun was setting and it cast an orange glow onto Madge's hair. She was smiling and looking out to the water.

"It's really beautiful," Madge murmured. She was holding her arms around herself.

"You cold?" Gale asked. He shrugged off his denim over shirt and placed it around her shoulders before she could refuse. She looked like she was going to hand it back, but seemed to decide against it.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Want to head back?" Gale suggested, but he could stay there all night watching how the light played with her hair.

She shook her head. "Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked, looking up at him.

He was a head taller than her and his shoulders were easily twice the width of hers. She seemed to small to him then, but her eyes were big and blue.

"Sure," they started for the water. Madge had her shoes off and was carrying them. Gale could tell she wanted to put them in the water. He wondered if he would be able to get her in the water, maybe not today, but sometime soon.

"Would you like to go for ice-cream? Gale asked, and when Madge smiled and said yes, he couldn't imagine spending a beautiful end to the day without her.

* * *

A/N: Hey readers, I would just like to point out – in case I hadn't made it clear in the story – that I know characteristically Gale isn't really this chilled out guy that's really nice to Madge, but I hope that you'll give this older Gale a chance. I've tried to give (limited) background information in these first few chapters just to hint that he isn't the same guy he used to be when he was younger. I hope this doesn't deter you from this story, please stick with me and all will become clear soon. And please, if you can, give me a little review. I'm super interested on your thoughts about this story and if there are any things I should work on (I hope I've been explaining things clear enough). Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

_"__It took me by surprise I must say  
When I found out yesterday  
Don't you know that I heard it through the grapevine"_

Marvin Gaye – I Heard It Through The Grapevine

Chapter 4 – Gale-Force

**Gale wasn't an early riser but this morning** he had tossed and turned on the couch unable to get back to sleep. He usually got up around the same time as Madge, hearing her moving about the kitchen as quiet as she could. However, this morning was different. Not only was his old sofa finally acting its age, it was extremely hot out. District 4 had reached that time of the year that Gale liked to call the "boiling point".

Madge hadn't risen yet, and when he peaked his head into his room to grab a clean shirt and underwear, he found her fast asleep. During the night she had kicked off the covers and now lay exposed in the morning light in one of Gale's shirts and her panties.

He hurried out the room. Gale used to go hunting when he was much younger and he enjoyed putting his light footing to good use.

Not wanting to hang around with a tantalising Madge in the other room, he quickly changed his clothes, wrote a note and grabbed his keys.

Gale pulled his car into a residential street and found the home address of Mr and Mrs Gloss. He decided to wait for movement and parked across the street from the new brick house that was surrounded by a white picket fence. Figuring he had some time to kill he thought about his workload for the day. He had to put on his disguise and play Mr Peter Topher, show face at the office, and stay out of Effie's way - fairly easy things to do, especially with the added reward of going home to Madge at the end of the day.

His mind liked to wander towards her during most of the day. Right now it lingered on how he last saw her – in his bed. He was so tempted to take his relationship with her one step forward, and he could sense that she liked him. Otherwise why was she still hanging around his dingy house? He needed to make a move, but there were things he needed to know delaying him from what was surely the inevitable.

In fact, last night was a particularly close call.

Claudius Templesmith had been presenting the weather, standing in front of a cardboard display of District 4 and positioning sun shapes on the map. The TV was the only source of light in the front room, and Gale was lounging on the sofa as high as a kite.

He hadn't been paying attention, but he liked looking at the soft pastel colours indicating what was the upcoming week's forecast. His good old pal Claudius was quite enthusiastic, as if he was more than just the weather presenter, and in some of Gale's wilder expeditions with narcotics Claudius would speak to Gale and make excellent small talk.

"The pavement should be hot enough to fry an egg!" Claudius had said and it made Gale chuckle as he snacked on a bag of chips.

"And these gale-force winds will…" _Oh fuck, "Gale-force"! What am I planning on doing?! _

He had sat up straight to attention, suddenly anxious for the state of his ethical intentions, but the sound of his bedroom door creaking had drawn him away from those scary thoughts, and slipped easily from his mind as his eyes fell on Madge wrapped in a towel.

Gale couldn't tell if she was blushing but her hair was wet and she was staring back at him as if she had something to say but had forgotten how to speak. He had put down his chips and stood not entirely sure of his actions but feeling as though this was the right move forward. Madge had stood as if she was hesitating but finally moved to one side leaving the entrance to the bedroom clear. She had bit her lip and man he wanted a taste for himself.

"I don't want to seem stupid but there's a massive spider in the bathroom,"

She was afraid of spiders. If Gale had been ten years younger he would have shrugged and told her to get over it, but now he was eager to do something for her.

He had disposed of the crawler down the toilet and flushed. By the light of the bathroom, Gale got a much better look at her, and detected that Madge had indeed blushed. Gale had supposed she wasn't keen on admitting to a phobia like that, and had decided to lay off on teasing her this night. In the new light, he had also been able to see she had been in the bath and her hair was dripping wet. One drop was sliding down her collarbone and down to the towel. He had wanted to find out where those water droplets would end up if there were no towel in the equation, but he was also a tad chicken and coming down from a high equalling to wanting food. He had bid her goodnight and had shut the door to the bedroom and had collapsed back on the couch.

Thinking about the whole ordeal now, Gale realised what a damn chivalrous bastard he was. Over the past week of Madge living with him, he had seen her in a towel countless times. Every time he considered her motives. Did she need to walk around the kitchen aimlessly naked save for a towel? Or look out the front window to the sea wrapped in his favourite cotton towel? These were particularly hard (in every sense of the word) moments. Was she teasing him? Willing him to make the next move? Perhaps she was, or maybe she wasn't… that wasn't necessarily the only important question Gale had. He really wanted to know why he hadn't approached her. Why hadn't he kissed her and carried her to the bed to make sweet love to her? Any other woman he would have been all over by now, but Madge was different.

And that was the crux of the matter.

Madge Undersee wasn't like the other woman he had been with. She was from his past… an area of his life he wasn't all that eager to go back to. Getting involved with her would make him confront uncomfortable memories. Not only that but he also needed to tell her about his connection to Cato Sullivan. Madge wasn't an idiot, Gale knew that, so he hoped that she would trust him enough to talk to him about the case. He realised that he wanted her to trust him, and he wanted to trust her. Maybe that was what made this situation different from the others. Maybe it was what was making it more real.

From the corner of his eye he caught movement at the Gloss House. Trying to seem inconspicuous, he watched Gloss step out his front door and get into his sleek black sedan.

Clove had said that her husband's weekday schedule consisted of him going to work at an insurance firm downtown, some days he ate lunch at his desk and some days he went out with a colleague, after work he would nip into his local for a half pint before coming home to Clove who had dinner ready for seven.

Gale decided that he would follow the bloke to work, see if he did anything that Gale deemed suspicious before heading to meet the mystery phone man.

He waited until Gloss pulled out and drove down the street. Gale started his car and followed him. Gloss didn't do anything unexpected. He stuck to the speed limit, never went through a red light, and appeared to be just an average driver. Something Gale wasn't expecting was Gloss's pit stop at a café not a mile away from his work. Gale then followed him to the insurance firm car park and watched as Gloss entered the building. Gale took note of the café, and decided to step inside before going to his office.

The café was called Tiger's and served a number of cakes and hot drinks. Gale got a black coffee and sat at the window seat. He took out his notebook and flipped through. The address to the mystery caller wasn't too far from Gale's office, and he made a quick plan of what he was going to do. There was really only so far Gale could probe. He could pretend to have a look about, maybe make a note of the guy's car and if anything looked a little weird write it down.

His little book was working over time.

He finished coffee and jumped back in his car. His mind wandered to Madge and what she was up to. She might have just drunk her first cup of coffee of the day, and would probably be cleaning up after her breakfast. She liked her coffee with milk but no sugar, and enjoyed eating fruit for breakfast. She liked melon, which was good this time of year. Gale was vaguely aware of her plan to go food shopping today. There was a small supermarket up the road she could walk to without much of a struggle to carry the bags home. He thought shopping with Madge would be an enjoyable activity – to watch her ponder over what they needed. The thought was so domestic and mundane Gale was slightly taken aback.

Parking outside the office drew him away from those thoughts and he entered through the salon door.

"Mornin' Eff," he muttered storming to the back office. He didn't wait around to hear her reply.

He opened the mail Effie had left outside his door – junk – and entered his storage cupboard office. He kept a modest supply of disguises in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet for cases such as this. He also had a small mirror that he had persuaded Effie to gift him.

Gale had fairly shaggy hair that couldn't really be considered long, but was long enough that his hair had a slight curl to it. He decided to sweep it back into a comb over. He was sporting sideburns and five o'clock shade that he liked to maintain to that length. He had a moustache that he could stick on his top lip, blending in badly with the rest of his face, but all in all Gale thought he looked good. He would add a pair of aviator shades with mirror style lenses just to confuse anyone and add to the look he was going for. He then changed out of his clothes and put on a badly creased brown suit. Look complete.

Determined to not stick around for any of Effie's lip, he strutted at full speed across the salon floor, past the strange looks and out the door.

* * *

**Gale pulled up outside the house where the **mystery man claimed to live. It was a modest semi-detached, with a dry front lawn and empty flowerbed. The shutters on the windows were shut, but a dusty looking motorcycle sat in the drive. Gale determined that the occupier was inside. With his disguise in place, Gale stepped out the car with his empty briefcase and walked up to the drive.

The heat was relentless and Gale was sweating profusely. He desperately wanted to loosen the collar of his shirt and remove the jacket, but was dead set on keeping character.

Gale knocked on the front door.

It was a few moments of intense sweating on Gale's part before a man emerged on the other side. The door opened revealing a shorthaired man with a scraggly beard with tattoos all over. He had the appearance of a man who was tough and intimidating – he looked like he had done time – but had a look in his eye that made him seem a little dopey. The man was clearly surprised by Gale's visit.

"Good morning," Gale chirped, "I'm Peter Topher. We spoke on the phone yesterday."

The man seemed to remember immediately.

"Oh yes, Mr Topher." He held out his hand, which Gale shook. "I'm Castor Chatham. Please come in."

Gale stepped into the house lifting his sunglasses, and found the front room to be sparse in terms of furniture. Castor turned for Gale to follow him inside and Gale spotted a large tattoo on the back of the man's neck. It was black and was a depiction of a bird wings spread above a laurel wreath. By the location and poor quality of the ink, Gale guessed it was a gang symbol. What gang it belonged to Gale wasn't sure. He had never seen it before. He would have to phone a friend.

"Nice home you've got here." Gale lied, "Got a family?"

Castor shrugged, "My brother – he comes 'round often. Like I said when you called yesterday, I'm hardly ever home."

"Work away?"

Castor nodded, yes, "I'm a sailor. At sea for weeks at a time."

"Little time for meeting pretty ladies,"

"I guess." The man smiled at Gale. "Is there anything I can get for you? Coffee?"

For a guy who might be tied up with Snow, Castor was surprisingly polite. Gale guessed that 'don't judge a book by its cover' was the correct metaphorical phrase for a situation like this. It was almost refreshing to meet a guy who resembled an egg so much – a hard exterior but soft in the middle.

"No, I'm groovy. This won't take long."

Gale scanned the living area. There didn't seem to be anything suspicious about the place. Papers were stacked by the couch but they looked to be nothing more than old newspapers – Gale couldn't very well sift through them. The house smelt of weed and there was an empty beer bottle on the coffee table. Other than that there wasn't anything that stood out to him.

"Party for one?" Gale motioned to the empty bottle.

"My bro was meant to come round last night, but something came up on his end."

"I hope you understand," Gale began, "that I need to ask you a few questions. As I told you before, there was complaint of a noise disturbance. I know you say that the complaint is unwarranted, but it would be appreciated if you could give me some information."

"That's no problem," Caster nodded, looking slightly concerned.

"Is there a possibility that anyone has stayed here while you've been away at sea?"

"No, not recently. My brother stayed a night or two a few weeks ago when his old lady kicked him out."

Gale hummed, "If you wouldn't mind letting me check the exterior, that would be very kind."

Castor nodded, "Sure, have a look."

Gale thanked him and stepped back outside. The grass was dry and yellowing, and patchy suggesting that Castor didn't have much of a green thumb. So far this expedition was going slow and coming up with nothing.

Gale had a look at Castor motorbike, "Nice bike,"

"Don't get much of a chance to ride anymore," Castor said, "I usually head out with my bro. He rides too."

Gale noticed the various tire tracks. It could be that the brother is in on the same business Castor is in. "Your brother got a name?"

Castor shifted, "Pollux."

"Wait, do you think the noise complaint could be about the bikes?" Castor's fact lit up like he had just cracked an unbreakable code.

"I'm sure it is," Gale had enough of this. There wasn't anything obvious that he was looking at. Maybe Castor and Pollux Chatham were part of something bigger – Snow related.

"Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr Chatham." Gale said, looking to turn back to his car, "I believe the disturbance might just be your mode of transport."

"I'll try to be quiet for the sake of my neighbours."

"I'm sure you will," Gale murmured, not doubting Castor's words.

* * *

**Gale was sitting behind his desk.** A bong in front of him was bubbling away with his inhale and he sat back in his chair completely relaxed. After his morning of snooping, he was feeling like he deserved to sit back and chill.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Gale called and the door opened presenting a young redheaded man with tattoos on both arms.

"Eh, the lady in the salon told me to come on through," Gale didn't have any appointments that day so accepted Effie's favour in giving him more work.

"I'm Gale Hawthorne, P.I."

"Darius," the young man supplied.

The client took a look at Gale's current activity and took the seat across from Gale. He looked a little hesitant and so Gale motioned for the newcomer to help himself to a drag from the pipe. Gale's eyes landed on the ink on Darius's right arm. It was identical to the one Castor had on the back of his neck, and it clicked now that the two of them must be in the same gang. Could it be a connection to Snow? Gale could only hope. But if Darius had a connection to Snow, what the hell was he doing in Gale's office?

"So how can I help you, Darius?" Gale placed the bong on the filing cabinet behind him when they were finished.

Without the distraction of the weed, Darius became a little unsettled. He shifted in his chair and Gale thought the young man might be a little embarrassed.

"I need you to… how do I put this? …Collect something for me?" The redhead asked hesitantly.

Gale almost chuckled out loud.

"You do know I'm not a bounty hunter?" Gale enquired.

"I thought this was the kind of thing you do?" Darius threw back irritated.

Gale leaned back in his chair, "Ok, but before I say yes, I need a bit more information." He picked up his pen and turned to a new page of his notepad.

"Like what?"

Gale rolled his eyes. Some clients just sauntered on in and expected him to solve their problems at the click of their fingers.

"What do you want me to… collect?"

"Payment."

"For…?"

Darius at least had the decency to look a little uncomfortable. He shifted in the chair and gave a little cough before answering.

"…A squid."

Well never in a month of Sundays had Gale heard something like that.

In fact it tickled him. Gale laughed causing Darius to blush.

"Seriously?"

"I work on a boat!" The redhead exclaimed. "I caught the damn thing and thought I was onto something. A friend of a friend was interested in buying it, and I passed it over, but he's not given me my cash."

Gale tried to process this information.

"How the fuck did you catch it?" Gale was genuinely curious.

Darius shrugged. "A friend of mine has a fishing boat. We were out one day and I reeled it in. Big orange motherfucker."

Gale raised his brow. Darius has some friends.

"What's the guy's name?"

"Chaff," Darius replied, and Gale made a note of it. "He only has one hand." Darius added, "And a hook…"

Gale looked up into the man's eyes, "Are you shitting me?"

Darius shook his head. If Gale followed this shit up and found it to be some hoax he would be royally pissed.

"He's also a fisherman…"

So, Gale was now out to get the bounty from fucking Captain Hook? What did that make him? Blackbeard?

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed a cigarette.

"What did he want with it?" Gale couldn't bring himself to say the word "squid" just yet. Thinking it alone made him want commit himself.

Darius shrugged again. It was like this boy had no clue about anything. "I don't know. Eat it? Keep it as a pet?"

Gale thought about keeping a marine animal that size in a tank in his living room. It didn't feel right, and Gale could barely keep a plant alive, let alone manage a goldfish, nevermind a squid.

"How much does he owe you?

Darius ranted off about how him and Captain Hook had disputed prices, and Gale finally noted a four-figure sum in his notepad.

"I have a few other cases at the moment," and this sea creature shite was nowhere near top of the list, "So apologies if it takes a while to get your money."

"No worries," Darius said, "However long it takes."

"I'll take a deposit now," Gale said, and Darius seemed to remember that he had to pay Gale. They decided on a price and Darius left the room agitated.

Gale lit a cigarette and thought of the tattoo and how it linked to Castor Chatham. One pushover, and a fucking idiot… if these two were tied to Snow, the oil tycoon was certainly lowering his standards for employment.

* * *

**"****You'll never guess what this guy told me today,"** Gale called out as he walked through the front door to his place. He could hear Madge in the bedroom. It sounded like she was singing. He dropped his wallet and keys on the table and headed through to her.

He rested against the doorframe and smiled. Madge was folding clothes on the bed whilst singing a tune Gale vaguely recognised from a musical. She hummed the bits she didn't know. She must not have heard him come in and didn't sense his presence for she didn't turn to him. It got Gale a little worried about what would happen if there was an intruder and Madge was home alone, but he would keep that thought for a more serious time. He was enjoying this moment too much.

"You have a nice voice," he spoke at last.

Madge startled, turning to him immediately and dropping the t-shirt she was currently folding.

"Oh! I didn't hear you come in!"

"I like your singing," he said, and Madge laughed.

"I like singing," she admitted.

"You should sing more often then."

Madge went back to folding, but turned to face him at the same time. "How was your day?"

Gale forgot the day's activities, figuring he'd rather hear about her's.

He shrugged, "Another day at the office,"

"I'd love to visit your office one day," Gale had told her about it over dinner one night. He had been a little embarrassed about it – deciding not to mention the Cobra, after realising he might have said too much. Madge might think she was ready to meet Effie Trinket, but he sure wasn't ready for the two women to meet!

"What did you get up to?"

Madge finished folding the clothes and suddenly looked excited.

"Oh, I went shopping! I got strawberries, and the biscuits you said you liked."

That kindness made Gale unbelievably happy.

"I ran into Annie there," Madge smiled, "She gave me this recipe she thought we would like and I bought the ingredients. I can try to cook it if you want?"

She was looking at him over her shoulder, walking into the front room and headed for the kitchen. The evening sun was shining through the window casting glimmering colours onto her blonde hair. She was happy and it was contagious and Gale felt light.

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He marched towards her, cupped her face with both his hands and kissed her. She responded after some surprise and Gale groaned when Madge opened her mouth and their tongues danced together.

Kissing Madge in real life was beyond any of his wildest fantasies. She was an excellent kisser, biting his lip just right, threading her hands through the hair at the back of his neck. She was driving him crazy.

He realised she was stretching up on her tiptoes and relieved her of that burden by grabbing her ass and lifting her up into his arms. She was light and her clothing choice – her denim shorts, which he discovered were her favourite – allowed him to palm her bare skin. If he tucked his fingers up high enough he would be able to touch her panties, and if he wanted to he had easy access to her heated centre. Madge moaned when his lips and stubble grazed her neck, and she used her leverage on him to rub her hips against his.

He knew where this was going, but lingering thoughts were suddenly at the forefront of his mind, and no matter how much he wanted it to happen he knew he had to stop.

There was this space (figuratively speaking) between them that both of them hadn't discussed. It was vast and inescapable at times. He had thought about it so often it was eating at him. He needed to know the truth behind her.

Gale loved getting to know Madge, but she wasn't this new girl he'd just met. The truth was that he already knew her. He had known her since he was ten, and there was a hell of a lot of space between him finishing High School and last week. One thing was Cato. Another was how they came to be in District 4 when home was so far away.

Not quite knowing how to handle the situation, Gale held her at arms length – reluctantly putting a stop to his kisses, and dropping her onto her feet. If she got within a hairs length of him he might as well throw all attempts of being respectable to the wind. No, he needed to do this – get this conversation out the way. He wanted to be open with Madge.

She was looking at him with confusion. Her big doe eyes peeking up through her lashes. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Have I been reading us all wrong?" Madge asked, a slight tremble of embarrassment to her voice.

"God, no." He realised she probably thought his sudden urge to put her at a distance was due to him not feeling for her what she felt for him. He momentarily rejoiced in knowing she wanted him, but also a little peeved at himself for not making it clear to her that she was slowly killing him.

"I… I just…" didn't know what to say so he moved her to the couch. "Please sit."

Gale took the armchair across from her. He perched himself on the edge, back slouched forward and hands clasped before him. Inhale.

He meant business.

Exhale.

"I think we need to have a chat."


End file.
